


My World

by moonbeambucky



Category: Lance Tucker - Fandom, Sebastian Stan - Fandom, The Bronze (2015)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:33:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbeambucky/pseuds/moonbeambucky
Summary: As Lance Tucker’s assistant you effortlessly manage his life, but when feelings arise will you be able to manage your heart?





	My World

**Author's Note:**

> Written on tumblr for stanclub 2k Follower Milestone Writing Challenge. My prompt was “You want me to do what now?”

Amber lighting drenched the restaurant in a warm glow as hushed chatter filled the space where the soft music lulled. You were seated at a fancy restaurant, scanning over the menu that was well beyond your price range however tonight, much like most nights, you were not the one fitting the bill.

Across from you was your boss, former Olympic gold winning medalist Lance Tucker, and as you’ve learned over the years being his personal assistant has many perks, fancy dinners such as tonight’s being one of many.

This isn’t what you imagined doing after graduating college but an internship at an event planning company led to connections that eventually put you in Lance Tucker’s path and you thought why not. To be honest you were burnt out after trying to cram four years of college into a little over two. You figured a year off from school would be enough time to unwind before putting yourself out into the workforce and you thought being a personal assistant would be a piece of cake. Boy, were you wrong.

When you first met him Lance Tucker was without a doubt the most arrogant person you’d ever encountered in your life, as if winning a gold medal at the Olympics made him better than everyone else. When he walked into a room he felt as if he should be treated like the god he thought he was, and loads of women were more than happy to worship him.

The job wasn’t difficult per se, coordinating interviews, booking travel accommodations, and scheduling other appointments were fairly easy and actually enjoyable simply because you didn’t have to deal with Lance. When orders were barked your way you shut your eyes, inhaling a stiff breath before putting on a fake smile and getting him whatever he needed.

You learned quickly how selective Lance was about what he wanted. He could only drink certain water, have his meals prepared with or without specific ingredients, and if his sneakers got scuffed he threw them away and insisted on having a new pair before the day was over.

You managed to stick through that first year all the while searching for a job, and were finally offered a position with an event planning company. Just as you were about to give your two weeks notice Lance sat you down to discuss a new proposal. He was offered a position himself as the new coordinator for the U.S. women’s national team, a job that would have him scouting gymnastics talent as he travelled the country. You remember the words as if he spoke them yesterday, “You’re the best Y/N, I can’t do this without you.”

To say that you were shocked was an understatement. Over the last year you always ensured that Lance had all the luxuries he felt he was entitled to with him barely acknowledging anything you had done. He never cared that you stayed late on countless nights to finish whatever he had tasked you with, or the times you had to wake up in the middle of the night to make international calls for him. There was always so much to do and you had become so preoccupied with keeping Lance’s life running smoothly you never stopped to notice when things had actually changed.

It was just over a month prior when Lance had run out of his favorite discontinued cologne and he threw the biggest hissy fit you had ever seen. Set up in the office of his house you were on a quest to find more bottles of the suspended scent, scouring the internet and contacting reps from the company directly.

In the middle of your task you had taken a call from your best friend, apologizing as you had to cancel your plans with her last minute, unaware that Lance stood in the doorway overhearing every unfiltered word you had to say about him.

“He’s a big baby, honestly! I’ve never seen a grown man act this way before, it’s just cologne! I mean, yeah he smells really good but can’t he find another one? Fuck! My hair is turning grey I swear!”

Lance’s first instinct was to march into the room with a smirk plastered on his face as he proudly fired you. Instead he watched as you promised your friend you would have dinner with her soon, yet the way your shoulders slumped down foretold the harsh truth; this would be another plan you would inevitably cancel. You rolled your head around as stiff joints cracked and with a loud sigh you went back to work.

Lance backed away slowly, going into his room and staring at his reflection in the mirror. Your words echoed in his mind and he admitted to himself he was acting like a baby. It’s true, it was only cologne and while he loved this scent he’s certain he could find another one. You’ve been working so hard on this stupid mission, it made him wonder how many times you had missed out on other plans.

He suddenly realized how often you stayed late, giving him a half-hearted smile as you wished him good night, stifling a yawn as you left his house. He had always meant to tell you to get home safe, seeing the exhaustion that began to weigh down your eyes like bags of sand, but he was quickly distracted by one of the many rotating women he had on call that would come over to hook up just as you were leaving.

After throwing the empty bottle in the garbage Lance jogged down the hall to relieve you of your task, hoping you might still be able to restore the plans you had. With your head down, focused on your phone you left his office. A smile was plastered on your face as you were about to tell Lance you had found a few bottles that were going to be shipped from Bolivia.

Suddenly you collided with each other, Lance’s firm body knocking you to the ground with an unflattering “oof.” Lance felt terrible, helping you up and you couldn’t help but notice how soft his hands were. Your reverie was short lived as you picked up your phone on the ground, seeing the cracked screen splintering out like a spider’s web.

You sighed, letting him know about the cologne while struggling to not let your voice crack. You weren’t sure if there was enough money in your account to fix your phone. This job paid enough to cover basic expenses and start to chip away at your debt but not enough for any sort of emergencies.

Lance’s apology was caught in his throat as he looked at you. He wondered why it’s taken him so long to notice how beautiful your eyes were. Even as tears glossed over them and you struggled to keep them from falling, all Lance could see was the way they sparkled in the light. Your lips were pressed together as you tried to hold your resolve but all he could think about was easing the tension they held, making you laugh so he could see that beautiful smile again and wondering how they would feel against his own.

Unable to formulate the proper words he simply responded by letting you know that you could leave for the evening and so you did. After hearing the door shut Lance huffed in frustration, realizing what an asshole he’s been.

The next morning you woke up to a loud knocking. Barely lifting your feet you shuffled towards the door, stepping on the ends of your llama print pajama pants. You were expecting a delivery and assumed it needed to be signed for.

Unexpectedly, Lance stood in front of you, smiling as he watched you nervously tugging at your sweatshirt. Your mouth hung open as you awkwardly stared at him, embarrassed for your extremely casual attire, wishing this was a dream you could wake up from.

Lance broke the silence by clearing his throat. “I got this for you,” he said softly, holding out a small box.

Cautiously you took it from him, watching as his smile grew larger. Something was different about him; in all the smiles you had seen in nearly a year for the first time you saw sincerity. Opening the box your eyes widened, staring back at you was a brand new phone.

“I can’t accept this,” you sputtered out the first words that came to mind.

Your own phone was a few models behind, the price tag of the newer models forcing you to keep what you had and even though Lance was more financially secure than you were you didn’t feel comfortable accepting the phone.

“Please, I insist,” Lance said, his gorgeous blue eyes staring right through you.

Lance read the hesitance on your face so he changed his tone, and with a slightly firmer voice he stated that you needed a phone for work and now you had one; reluctantly you accepted it.

“Enjoy your weekend,” he said, shrugging his hands into his jacket, “And cute pajamas.” Lance flashed a bright smile as he put on his sunglasses and left.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and you quickly shut your door, replaying the interaction over and over again. Since when was Lance so smiley and polite? You tried not to read into anything, Lance was there for business, that’s all, or that’s what you convinced yourself at least.

Lance hoped his change of attitude registered with you but once again you had engrossed yourself in work and hardly paid attention to the way he was acting. He no longer demanded things to be done but asked politely if you could take care of things. He tried to be mindful of your hours, making sure you had the time to have a life outside of work even though he found himself wanting to see more and more of you as the days passed.

When he told you about his new position he still saw resistance etched in your face. Lance knew he was difficult in the beginning and you hadn’t yet noticed the changes in his behavior so he sweetened the deal by offering a higher salary, trying not to seem as desperate as he felt as he waited on your answer.

When he told you what the salary would be you were shocked. It was nearly three times higher than what you would be making at your new job. There was a lot to weigh out, event planning was your passion but you would be a fool to turn down the money. You decided on giving yourself another year with Lance, you would be able to make enough to pay off your debts and  _then_ you would go into your field. Besides, being a personal assistant was sort of like event planning, if the event was everyday life, you tried to reason.

That year turned into five and many things had changed. Finally you had seen the changes in Lance, he was kind and always appreciative of your work. Over the years you had become closer, and not just because you were travelling close together, the dynamics of your relationship were different.

Even though he was still your boss you had developed a true friendship, getting to know each other inside and out, sharing moments together laughing at things only the two of you would understand. Lance not only trusted you but he valued your opinion.

Being in the background had its benefits and that’s where you were able to help. When he was struggling on choosing between two gymnasts he asked for your advice. You had seen all of the girls perform, doing incredible maneuvers you could only attempt in your mind, and while you couldn’t comment on their technical execution you did know their character.

As Lance contemplated his decision your eyes followed his sharp jawline down to his mouth, watching his teeth chew on his perfectly plush bottom lip. You felt the heat of the sun rush to your cheeks so you forced yourself to look away. Shifting nervously, you tucked your leg underneath you and accidentally brushed against Lance’s firm thigh. He smiled your way, instantly causing your stomach to do a full gymnastics routine of flips.

As much as working with Lance became easier it was just as equally harder because of the feelings you developed. It started off as a crush, Lance was obviously attractive with a face as gorgeous as his perfectly sculpted body, but he was your boss so you tried your best to dismiss it. Becoming closer didn’t help. You saw more sides of Lance, from the person who loved to blast old school hip hop and dance, to the times when you watched movies together and shared deep thoughts about its meaning.

Lance had grown from his younger, cocky days except when it came to women. They all looked the same in your opinion, tall and slim, with either too large breasts or too fake tans, and not one had a personality. You knew you were judging them harshly because they had the one thing you never could. Lance would never see you as anything but his assistant and the painful truth kept your feelings at bay.

Lance was respectful of your hours so you no longer cancelled plans with your friends but you still didn’t have much time to date. You were talking to a few people on Tinder but travelling didn’t allow you the time to see anything through, most of the guys ended up finding someone local and more serious in your absence.

You were tired of being single though most of the time it felt like you were dating, like tonight’s dinner. Lance was celebrating his fifth year as team coordinator and wanted to celebrate with you. He dressed in a well fitted suit that brought out the color of his eyes, your own dress an unconscious choice that reminded you of the same.

Once inside the restaurant he pulled out your chair and ordered your favorite wine before you even asked. Bringing his glass up for a toast Lance smiled, his eyes beaming with adoration as he looked at you, “These have been the best five years of my life. I meant it when I said I couldn’t have done this without you Y/N. I’m so happy to have you in my life.”

The wine tasted sour on your tongue as you swallowed his words, you meant something to Lance but not how you wanted to.

Lance cared for you, as an employee and friend, and the lines between the two often blurred. He got to know your family just as well as you had his. He was there for you when your grandmother died, accompanying you to the funeral. Your mind was too preoccupied with grief to truly see all the ways he was there for you, from having an endless supply of tissues to the way he gently rubbed your hand, giving a comforting squeeze.

When Lance threw parties you were the first he invited but you didn’t always attend them. Sometimes you couldn’t handle seeing the women that would be hanging all over him, you didn’t want to think of how his hands would roam their bodies, how his soft lips would slant against theirs. Nope, it was easier to just stay home curled up on the couch with a blanket, one that Lance happened to have gotten you a few years ago. You couldn’t escape him, Lance had touched every part of your life.

Being absent at the parties meant you didn’t see the way Lance longed to see you, disappointed every time the doorbell rang and you weren’t standing there. He had given up his rotation of women long ago, realizing he had only wanted you, the one constant in his life that he depended on so much. Not for the work you did as his assistant, but for your presence; the smile that would lift his spirits anytime he was stressed, your laughter that filled the air sounding sweeter than any music he’s heard before.

To Lance, you didn’t just mean the world to him, you were his world. He loved you so much but he couldn’t tell you. He didn’t want to be unprofessional nor did he want to ruin your friendship, so for years he shut his mouth and enjoyed the times you shared together.

Lance promised he would never tell you how he felt but one day he couldn’t help it. He was distracted while coaching, standing too close as one of the girls performed her routine. Her foot smacked him right in the mouth, knocking out a tooth. Blood sprayed across the mats and while Lance was rightfully upset about his tooth he was equally concerned about the gymnast’s now swelling foot.

While she was being looked after you carefully grabbed his tooth from the ground, found a cup and awkwardly asked Lance to spit in it so you could preserve the tooth. Rushing him into your car you found the nearest oral surgeon that could see him.

You were nervous in the waiting room, unable to focus on anything for nearly two hours until finally Lance walked out accompanied by the doctor. She informed you of the follow up instructions since Lance was still a little out of it thanks to the anesthesia.

On the drive back to his house Lance was loopy, mumbling gibberish and pulling out the blood soaked cotton from his mouth. You scolded him to put it back, dropping your head with a sigh as he shook a bottle of antibiotics in his hand like a baby with a rattle. At least he made you laugh.

When you finally made it back to his house you sat him in bed, pulling off his sneakers and placing the covers over him after he settled into the mattress. Just before you were about to leave he uttered the words that broke your heart, “I love you, Y/N.”

You were lucky his back was towards you so he didn’t see the tears that fell down your cheek. You always wanted to hear those words but you knew he didn’t mean it. He was still drugged up and these words were just part of the nonsense he couldn’t help. After that you tried dating again and after a few weeks of talking to someone you were ready to meet them in person.

You wanted to bring up the date you had, not only so you could get off work on time but somehow saying it out loud in front of Lance would make real, at least you hoped it would help dissolve the feelings you had.

Lance sat across from you, swallowing his forkful of grilled chicken quickly so he could continue to talk about the latest episode of  _Atlanta_. You felt guilty, knowing you would be changing the subject from one of your shared shows to something that would begin distancing you.

“Oh, by the way…” you started, chewing the last bite of broccoli while trying to feign confidence, “I need to leave by 5:30 the latest today to get ready for my date.”

“Oh,” he said, curtly.

Reaching for your bottle of water you watched as Lance’s expression changed. His sharp jaw tensed and you could swear you heard the pressure of his teeth clenching together. His eyebrows were knit tightly and the light drained from his once bright eyes.

“Yeah, whatever.”

You shrugged off the fact that he was being short with you though you’re not quite sure why he’s acting this way. It made the rest of lunch awkward as you were both silent and stopped looking at each other.

Soon after Lance asked you to drive him to the gymnastics center. You insisted on taking separate cars, reminding him you had to leave at a certain time but with a snide smile he assured that you would. Lance huffed passed you as he entered the building to begin coaching and you had to bite your tongue not to call him out on his rudeness. Had the young gymnastics not been excitedly following behind, you would have.

You spent the rest of the afternoon in his office following up on appointments and managing his social media. When it was almost time to leave you wanted to speak to Lance to see if there was anything he needed before you left. He ignored you for the remainder of his coaching session as he was reminding the girls on the importance of stretching. You glanced at the clock, it was only a few minutes past the time you aimed to leave. You’d still be able to drop off Lance, head home and have enough time to get ready.

The sound of the door shutting echoed through the large gym. “I was going to ask if there was anything else you needed but I have to go now,” you stated.

Lance smirked, “I’m not ready to leave.”

“Um, okay I guess you can take an Uber then,” you remarked, turning on your heel and rolling your eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Turning around once more you couldn’t hide the confusion on your face. “I have to go, it’s almost a quarter to and I have plans.”

“If I’m still here, you’re still here,” he commanded in a tone that was very reminiscent of the Lance you first met.

You couldn’t believe him. Why was he acting this way? Ever since you told him about your date he’s had such an attitude.

“I’m sorry Lance but…” you stopped yourself mid-sentence to recollect your thoughts, “No, actually I’m not sorry. I have plans and I’m going to leave for them right now.”

“Oh, what? Your little date?” he taunted.

You stared at him incredulously. “What is your problem? Ever since I mentioned these plans you’ve been acting like a child! I’m allowed to date Lance. You have no problem sticking your dick everywhere so you have no right to stop me from meeting someone and trying to have a life!”

Your chest was heaving, nostrils flaring as you stared him down. Your rant was not professional by any means but you couldn’t help it. You clenched your jaw waiting for his response. Lance was in shock. He wanted to say so many things at once but didn’t know where to start, so everything came out wrong.

“I’m not the one who’s acting like a child, Y/N!” he yelled, stomping his feet very much like a child. “You’re the one who’s been flaunting her date around all day.” That was a lie and he knew it. “And if you were as good of an assistant as you claim to be you’d know I stopped banging those sluts years ago!”

Lance kept his gaze on you, struggling to keep his feet planted firmly on the ground. He was angry. How could you not have known he wasn’t sleeping around anymore? He thought you two were close, that you knew every part of his life, that you knew the person he was inside. Lance was angry, realizing that the one person he needed to be mad at was himself for holding back all these years.

“Look, Y/N…” he began softly, “You don’t have to go on that date. If you just–”

“No! You don’t get to tell me what I have to do Lance. I’m entitled to having a life!” you screamed.

You were mad at yourself, for putting off the job you wanted for years all because of Lance but it wasn’t his fault. You were scared of losing him.

Taking a deep breath you couldn’t help your voice cracking as you continued, “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“You don’t want to be with me?” he asked.

Your eyes shut quickly to keep the burning tears inside. His question tore your heart from your chest. He was speaking about your position, obviously, the cruel job of being woven into the fabric of his life but you couldn’t do it anymore. It was too heartbreaking and so you had to tear your own thread away.

“No,” you painfully whispered.

You had spent far too long at this job, something that was supposed to be temporary but the love you had for Lance kept you at his side, now it was time to move on.

“Consider this my two weeks notice.”

Lance’s head hung low. All these years you spent together had obviously meant nothing. This was always just a job for you. Lance knew he wouldn’t be able to handle these two weeks, convincing himself it’s better to rip a band-aid off at once and say goodbye now, hoping it would be easier to move on that way.

He masked his sadness with anger and shouted, “Fuck the two weeks, you’re done right now!”

You had no words for him, turning around silently to head back to his office and grab your things, letting the tears finally fall before you walked out of Lance’s life forever.

Lance watched as you walked away, wishing you had turned around. He wanted you to say you had made a mistake, that you wanted to stay. Lance’s inner voice chastised himself for yelling at you, for ever daring to hold you back. He wanted you to be happy and if that meant you weren’t by his side then that’s something he’ll have to learn to live with.

Overcome with emotion, Lance chose to distract himself and walked towards the pommel horse. Gymnastics required focused dedication and at the moment he needed to quickly focus on anything but you. He lifted himself upon the device, forgoing any wrist wraps or chalk as he grabbed the metal bars and threw himself into one of his old routines.

His legs swung gracefully up and over, holding his body up into a taut handstand before releasing down again. His distraction was failing as he heard the office door shut, you were leaving for good. With more force Lance swung his legs around, maneuvering them in a skillfully coordinated dance with his wrists. From the corner of his eye he saw your frame, silently walking away. He swung his legs up high, bringing them down to scissor the equipment, and just as you reached the door he forced his legs up again, this time with less control.

Lance felt a pop inside his thigh and with a pained groan he brought his leg back down, hissing as he pushed off the bars and ungracefully fell to the ground.

“Lance!” you cried out, dropping your bag and rushing over to him.

His eyes were shut tight, his face tensed with pain as he held his inner thigh. He groaned for some ice and you ran as fast as you could, nearly tripping over the mat to get back to him quickly. You forgot everything that happened between you earlier, pushing aside your hurt and anger because in this moment you needed Lance to be okay.

Lance opened his eyes when he heard you move next to him, holding out a towel with the ice pack presumably wrapped in it. He groaned again feeling the sharp pain pulling in a sensitive area.

Gritting through his teeth he spoke, “Take off my pants.”

**“You want me to do what now?”**

“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, “Just help me get them off.”

In all the times you imagined relieving Lance of his clothes this situation was never considered. Lance gripped his inner thigh, leaning towards one side to lift half of his body off the ground as you grabbed the material of his track pants, careful not to pull his briefs down with them. He switched sides and you continued to shimmy his pants down his legs until they pooled around his sneakers.

Lance took the ice pack, grunting as he placed it on his tender muscle. You forced yourself to look away from his impressive thighs, so tanned and strong, staring at the blue mats instead as another round of awkward silence filled the room.

Pain radiated from Lance’s groin and he focused on his breaths, audible inhales, forceful exhales, trying to ground himself to anything but the pain. His eyes caught your form, kneeling beside him, worry littering your face as you looked anywhere but at him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, causing you to turn towards him.

His eyes conveyed how broken he felt, something you knew all too well as you had barely begun mourning your relationship.

“I understand if you want to work somewhere else but,” he sighed, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Hesitantly, his hand reached out to yours, giving a firm squeeze that meant more than he was saying but it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t read into things any more, you needed Lance to say whatever it was you saw racing through his mind.

“Tell me what you mean,” you asked.

He swiped his hand down his chin, for once giving thought to how he would put his feelings into words. “I’ve been holding back on telling you how I feel because this,” he gestured towards your things near the door, “Watching you leave is what I always feared.”

He cleared his throat, steadying his nerves before he confessed, “You’re the best part of my life and not because you’re my assistant. You’re my friend, my  _best_ friend and I’ve been in love with you for the longest time.”

You were speechless again as Lance Tucker’s words stunned you into silence.

“Please say something,” he begged.

“When we first met I couldn’t believe how obnoxious you were and then something changed. I saw a side of you I don’t think many people know, the real you. Funny, caring and surprisingly articulate when you’re reading into the meaning of movies,” you chuckled, earning a smile from him.

“I tried so hard not to fall for you, not just because you were my boss, but because I didn’t want to get my hopes up for feelings I never thought would be returned.”

“Well, I’m not your boss anymore,” he joked, “I love you, Y/N and I want to make it up to you for all the days I never said it.”

Lance leaned forward slightly as you closed the distance, crushing your lips to his for a kiss that was long overdue. His hands roamed up and down your back, with one gripping around you firmly and pulling you closer. His icy hands warmed up quickly from the heat of your skin, your body on fire as it soared like fireworks through the air, bursting in celebration as you and Lance were finally together.

The passion you shared got slightly out of hand as you wrapped your arms around him and straddled his legs, accidentally putting pressure on his pulled groin. Lance grabbed his inner thigh again as apologies spilled from your lips.

“It’s okay,” he reassured. Lance ran his thumb gently across your bottom lip, “To be continued,” he smirked.

“I’d like that,” you replied, biting your lip playfully as you smiled back.

The light sparkled in his blue eyes as he stared at you in awe. He felt like he had won the Olympics all over again, but this time he won your heart.


End file.
